


No sweeter innocence

by Azalea_Scroggs



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Canon Compliant, Challenge fic, Empire Day, First Meetings, Fluff and sex and angst, I tried my hand at smut (no not like that) and this is what happened, M/M, Rather liberal with continuity, Suicidal Thoughts, Tragic Romance, a little bit at the end, in that order, no happy ending, very vanilla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 17:22:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18721567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azalea_Scroggs/pseuds/Azalea_Scroggs
Summary: Even the dullest galactic festivities are nicer in good company...“You haven't been enthralled and captivated by the glorious display of our Empire's might?” Needa said.Tiaan looked at his smile, at the way it softened the hard edges of his face, at his nonchalance that was unable to conceal the firmness of military posture.“Oh, I have indeed,” he replied.





	No sweeter innocence

**Author's Note:**

> This is very different from what I usually write, and by design. It originated in a discord server called "The Rumpus Room," where we held a small challenge about writing things we rarely or never do. We gave each other prompts based on that, and I was assigned Needa/Jerjerrod smut.
> 
> Many many thanks to [Nilaza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nilaza) for her unwavering support while I kept doubting myself and tearing my hair out. I doubt I would have pulled through without her :)
> 
> (By the way, the letter Jerjerrod is mentioned to receive is totally the one Needa writes in _[It's your light that gets me through](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12675168)_ , because that fic is amazing and heart-breaking.)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Despite not being fond of the endless military parades Empire Day always brought, there was one of them that would forever remain etched in Tiaan Jerjerrod's memory.

More precisely, it was not the parade itself that stood out in his recollections. It had been a completely forgettable affair, as they all tended to be: standing for hours without making a single movement, hoping your blood pressure was sufficient for you not to make a fool of yourself by collapsing in front of everybody else, was hardly an exciting endeavour. It had happened once to Tiaan, a day he had in all likelihood not taken solid enough a breakfast, and it had been humiliating enough an experience that he didn't care to repeat it.

Naturally, once they had been released from the yearly bother and the entirely boring walking dinner that followed, the first thing he had done was looking for somewhere to sit. He was a desk officer, for the stars' sake, he wasn't used to standing still for so long – or standing at all, really. Unfortunately, the whole Navy seemed to share his point of view on the question, and seats were scarce in the halls they were supposed to mingle in.

With a sigh, he took a sip of Alderaanian champagne and looked around one more time, shifting from one foot to the other. There should be a rule, he thought, that people were not allowed to remain seated more than a dozen minutes at once in this sort of event, so that everybody could enjoy the chairs.

His gaze lingered on one of the gentlemen sitting a few feet away, the closest to where he was standing. The man, a captain, seemed in his late thirties like him and was engrossed in conversation with another officer, a glass of wine in his hand. His relaxed attitude and laid-back smile didn't diminish a dignified bearing, an economy in his movements that gave each gesture purpose and drew the eye to him.

Of course, Tiaan would only think in these terms later. At that moment, all that was on his mind was that he outranked him and could as such order him to give up his seat.

(Later as well, he would joke that he had wanted to sit in his lap as soon as he had first laid eyes on him.)

Tiaan's mind had a tendency to wander, leaving him staring straight ahead for entire minutes, his gaze immobile and unflinchingly set on whatever had the misfortune to stand in front of him. In this case, it happened to be the captain. And such was his luck that said captain happened to notice his stare.

He crossed Tiaan's gaze and Tiaan looked away, sipping at his glass and pretending nothing was out of the ordinary. It seemed he was the object of the scrutiny now; he keenly felt the captain's eyes on him, appraising him, and he fought not to let a blush appear on his cheeks. This was embarrassing enough as it was.

Stars, and to think there was still half an hour before it could be considered courteous to leave. He might make it twenty minutes, manners be damned.

He thought his heart was going to stop when he saw the captain rise up – another took his seat faster than in a public speeder – and head towards him. Tiaan forced himself to look him in the eye. He refused to be belittled or intimidated.

“Captain, I do not believe we have been acquainted,” he said, turning his nose up. He refused to let him have the first word.

He was disappointed when the only reaction he got was an amused smile.

“My apologies, Rear Admiral. Lorth Needa of _Avenger._ ”

Tiaan pinched his lips and took another sip of champagne, fighting the warmth growing in the back of his neck. The proper address was “Admiral,” and from the way the captain – Needa – had emphasised the previous word, Tiaan was willing to bet he knew it.

“Pleasure,” he curtly said.

Needa then turned away from him, leaving Tiaan to realise he had been leaning against the bar.

_Oh._

Perhaps the captain _hadn't_ come to make fun of him after all.

“May I offer you something?”

“Thank you, I have what I need,” Tiaan muttered, not knowing how to address his obvious blunder.

“Please, I insist. To celebrate the eighteenth anniversary of the Empire – it's a coming of age.”

Mortified, Tiaan dared cross his gaze again. The captain had a very nice smile, crinkling around his eyes. Tiaan let himself relax, his own lips turning up.

“I'll have what you're having, then,” he answered. He discreetly gulped down the end of his glass and set it down a bit further on the bar. It was inelegant perhaps, but less so than to find himself with two drinks at once. 

Needa ordered two Tatooine Sunsets and handed one to Tiaan, which he accepted with a smile and a thanks. The two men cheered and took a sip. It was perfectly dosed, found Tiaan, sweet and heady but not strong enough to end up drunk.

“So, I take it the day has taken its toll on you then, Admiral...”

“Tiaan Jerjerrod,” he hurried to supply. “Enough with the ranks, please – I have been subjected to enough courtesies for the day.”

Needa nodded, an amused glint in his eyes. He was leaning against the bar in a similar manner to Tiaan, but looking far more relaxed. In his dress uniform, he certainly cut a striking figure, and Tiaan couldn't help from letting his eyes wander.

“You haven't been enthralled and captivated by the glorious display of our Empire's might?” Needa said.

Tiaan looked at his smile, at the way it softened the hard edges of his face, at his nonchalance that was unable to conceal the firmness of military posture.

“Oh, I have indeed,” he replied. “I dare say a little too much, and awe has left me drained.”

“A good thing we have leave for the week, then.” Needa tilted his head towards him.

“You do as well?” Tiaan said. The thought of the captain having leave like he did was a pleasant one. Ships stationed in the Core, where unrest was uncommon, typically received leave for a few days after Empire Day, but he didn't think that was the case of Needa's ship. “I thought _Avenger_ was seeing a lot of action lately.”

“Well, we have, but things are starting to calm down now, and I thought I would enjoy our brief stay on Imperial Centre to visit my homeworld.”

“You are from Imperial Centre itself?” Tiaan asked. “Curious. You didn't strike me as the urban type.”

Needa laughed briefly, looking down at his glass. His eyes were slightly slanting, especially in mirth. He certainly was distinguished enough to come from the Empire's capital, despite Tiaan's teasing words.

“I have served on a warship for a long time,” Needa answered. “Battles have a way to develop one's sense of adventure.”

The glance he shot him made Tiaan swallow, his heartbeat accelerating. What an infuriating man, with too much repartee for his own good. Tiaan hadn't enjoyed himself this much in years.

He took another mouthful of alcohol and threw a quick look at the captain's hand. No ring. Good.

“So... do you have family here?” he asked, to be sure.

Needa's smile turned sad. “No, I live alone,” he said. Tiaan wondered what the story behind it was, but knew better than to ask. “If you are looking for a place to stay, my door is open to you.”

“That is extremely kind of you,” Tiaan said, very moved by the unexpected offer – and somewhat disappointed he couldn't take him up on it. “But I have already made arrangements otherwise. However, since we are on the same planet, I would be happy to enjoy your company again in the next days.”

“I would be delighted,” answered Needa. “I hope to make you discover some of the best places in this city – that no one but the locals knows.”

They exchanged comm numbers and decided on a meeting point, then kept talking far into the night. Tiaan only regretfully left the reception, much later than he had planned to, and already looking forward to the next day.

*******

They met in the late morning on the plaza in front of the Senate, clad in comfortable civvies. Lorth gave Tiaan a quick tour of the most visited places of the city, giving him both historical and personal anecdotes about them, then, as promised, he made him discover the hidden wonders, the calm streets where nearly nobody walked, the secret gardens and beautiful views. He took him for lunch in a small but warm diner in CoCo Town, advised him on the specialities.

All the while they talked. Lorth had seen many battles, and Tiaan was entranced by his tales of fighting against the Separatists and squashing anti-Imperial revolts. Tiaan told him about some ship prototypes he was working on, those that weren't classified, and they commiserated over the army's endless bureaucracy throwing a hydrospanner in both of their works.

The conversation briefly drifted over their respective relationships. Tiaan had had a few flings, but nothing too serious; as to Lorth, he briefly mentioned a deceased husband then changed the subject, remarking on the sunny weather before explaining they had a whole station regulating the atmospheric conditions, and it always made sure the conditions were optimal for Empire Week.

The sun started to drift down and the temperatures to chill, but neither of them wanted to part ways.

“Would you like to come to my place?” Lorth asked. “We can have a drink and enjoy the evening.”

Tiaan was happy to accept.

Lorth's place was situated not far from the Senate district, and they only had to walk a few minutes to get there. It was a big flat, luminous and spacious, with a wonderful view of the city. Tiaan was mesmerised by the horizon line, watching the sun set.

He was torn from his contemplation when his host came closer to him, handing him a glass of whisky. Tiaan took it, letting his fingers brush Lorth's.

“You have a beautiful house,” he said.

Lorth smiled, looking out the window like Tiaan had done seconds before. Tiaan found his gaze drawn by the shadows the warm light of the sun drew on his face, the way it was outlining the shape of his jaw, of his nose, playing with the glint in his eyes.

“That's one of the benefits of being a Star Destroyer's captain,” Lorth said. “I'm grateful to be able to afford a place like this.”

Tiaan nodded, and they stood in close silence for a moment, enjoying each other's company.

“Come,” Lorth said after a while. “We have walked the whole day, I believe we deserve the couch.”

He set his hand on Tiaan's elbow to accompany his words then let it fall down, to Tiaan's disappointment. They sat down side by side, and Tiaan sighed.

“Thank you for the tour,” he smiled. “I hadn't spent such an enjoyable day in a long while.”

Lorth stretched his arm on the back of the couch. Tiaan didn't move away, comfortable in the proximity.

“Yes... life on a warship doesn't allow for much free time. Constantly fighting, running... sometimes it can feel like it's the only thing there is.”

Tiaan nodded. He never wanted for this to end, this casualness, the company of the man next to him. He would have sat there forever.

“Do you ever feel... like what we are doing is pointless?” he asked. “All these efforts, battle after battle, subjugation after pacification... do you sometimes wonder if there'll ever be an end to it?”

Lorth tilted his head, rolling his glass through his fingers, thoughtful. Tiaan absently stared at the liquid inside it, the way the light moved with the amber tones. 

“Sometimes,” Lorth confessed. “It's such a big galaxy, it can feel impossible to unite it in peace. But the enemies of the Empire want us to feel like this. Ultimately, we will win, and the world will be a better place.”

His arm was still settled on the couch; Tiaan keenly felt its presence behind the back of his neck.

“Yes,” he breathed. “I was reminded of why we're fighting, seeing the celebrations, all these people cheering for us, happy and carefree... I cannot wait for that day to come.”

“It will,” Lorth answered. “I hope we see it together.”

He smiled, and Tiaan's breath caught in his throat at the simplicity of it, the way he sat with his legs crossed, the way civilian clothing suited him so much better than the rigidity of the uniform, the softness in his eyes.

Tentatively, Tiaan leant forward and kissed him, a mere, inviting brush of the lips. Their noses were nearly touching, their breaths mingling, and his heart soared when Lorth leisurely responded. His mouth still tasted like alcohol, a strangely rough smell in the gentleness of the kiss. Lorth's hand left the back of the couch to rest on Tiaan's hip, a warm and welcome weight.

Tiaan shifted closer, his knee pressing against Lorth's thigh. His fingers trailed up his jaw, behind his ear, tilting the back of his neck to kiss him deeper. Lorth let him in, his own fingers travelling up Tiaan's side, and warmth settled in Tiaan's lower belly. He shifted again, needing even more contact, only to let out a small groan when Lorth broke the kiss.

“Not here,” his lips breathed hot hair in his mouth. He gently pushed against Tiaan's chest then rose, twining the other hand's fingers with his to invite him to do the same.

They didn't even close the bedroom's door. Lorth let himself fall on the bed and pulled Tiaan on top of him, his hands on his hips. Tiaan bent to kiss him again, harsher, needier. His hands fumbled with the buttons of Lorth's shirt; Lorth's hand had come under his own T-shirt and was teasingly stroking his midriff, which made it difficult to concentrate on anything else.

He gave up and bent deeper instead, kissing up the line of Lorth's jaw then behind his ear, nipping at his lobe. Lorth let out a low groan that reverberated through their chests. Tiaan's pants grew tighter around him.

“If you don't get out of that shirt,” he growled in his ear, “I'm going to tear it off you.” 

Lorth smirked as only answer, his hands running even higher on Tiaan's torso, forcing his T-shirt above his head before throwing it away.

“Gentlemen first,” he panted, a mischievous glint in his eye that drove Tiaan crazy.

He took Lorth's wrists and pinned them above his head, holding them with only one hand while the other struggled with the shirt. Naturally, being one-handed didn't make things any easier, especially with the way Lorth was looking at him as he struggled with the damned fastenings, but he finally managed to take it off.

As soon as that was done, Lorth freed himself in the movement and used the chance to embrace Tiaan, kissing him again, his hands running on his naked back and bringing him closer. Their chests were pressing against each other, skin on skin, intoxicating. Their legs were intertwined; Tiaan's trousers were starting to feel like torture.

They got rid of them much quicker than they had of the shirts. While they still had some brainpower to them, Lorth opened the drawer and took a small bottle out of it, setting it on the top of the console. “We'll need that,” he said.

Tiaan didn't answer. He found his gaze drawn once again to the details of his appearance: his long and flushed face, his straight nose, the chiselled shape of his cheekbones and jaw, the way his eyebrows arched under his wide forehead. His body was toned but not burly, lean muscles built entirely for efficiency, although they did make a flattering silhouette. His eyes crinkled, a hundred tiny wrinkles around them, full of life; Tiaan found himself mentally tracing each of them.

Lorth smiled with a small, amused huff, and Tiaan crossed his gaze again.

“Are you always staring?” he asked, his fingertips tracing Tiaan's collarbone.

Tiaan took his wrist and brought it to his lips, keeping his gaze fixed on his face.

“Only at what catches my interest,” he murmured.

Still staring at Lorth, he flicked his tongue on the sensitive skin, delighting in his partner's gasp, the way his eyes closed and his head tilted back, just the smallest bit.

He sucked a little at it, and Lorth's hips buckled against him. A wave of fire shot through Tiaan's body; before he knew it, he was grinding down too, seeking friction.

He reached out and took the bottle Lorth had placed on the night stand, poured some oil on his fingers before coating himself with it. He moved over, put a hand under Lorth's knee, let his hand wander higher on the inside of his thigh.

“Tiaan...” Lorth breathed.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, he buried himself in him. He thrust inside him, slowly at first, feeling every movement back and forth, every rolling of their muscles. Lorth had slid a hand behind his lower back and the other to the nape of his neck. Their breaths grew quicker, heavy and erratic.

Pressure was building in his lower abdomen, driving him to pump in faster, rougher. Each of his thrusts drew breathless groans from Lorth, exquisite sounds that sent flares of pleasure throughout his body, drove him closer to the edge.

Climax overcame him with a shattering cry, seconds after Lorth's did. His muscles relaxed all at once and he fell forward on his chest, the both of them panting, reeling.

They stayed like this for a long time, lost in the afterglow and each other's embrace. Tiaan contentedly rested his head on Lorth's shoulder, playing with the hairs on his chest and basking in the feeling of his arms around him. They should probably get up and wash, but that could wait, he supposed; he didn't want to move any time soon.

“Will you stay the night?” Lorth whispered on the top of his head, as if he had heard the thought.

“Yes,” he immediately replied.

*******

It turned out he didn't make much use of the hotel room he had booked after all. They spent the rest of their holiday together, enjoying the many attractions of the capital and lazing around in Lorth's home. It was disorienting to be allowed to do nothing, and neither of them managed to really let go of military discipline completely in this short time, but it was a good feeling nevertheless.

Naturally, the week went by far too quickly for their tastes, and they promised to keep in touch as they returned to their separate postings. Needa went back on _Avenger_ ; Tiaan wasn't allowed to tell him of the classified project he was working on, but promised he would know in time, once it was revealed to the galaxy.

But the war intensified, the Rebels became better organised, and work swallowed the both of them. The near-simultaneous destruction of Alderaan and the Death Star made Needa hit Tiaan's comm number with fright, all too relieved to learn he had gone away for a short overview mission in the Quanta sector, of which he was governor. Shortly afterwards, it was Tiaan who sent him a congratulatory if uneasy message upon learning _Avenger_ had been transferred to Death Squadron, under the command of the frightful Darth Vader. It was an honour, but a dangerous one, and Tiaan couldn't help the impression that this was the beginning of the end.

They didn't have contact for a long time after that. Tiaan had been commissioned to work on another Death Star, larger and deadlier and on an impossible timespan, and he was overwhelmed by the demands of the projects, working every hour of the day, barely able to take short breaks to eat and sleep, never mind spending even half an hour on the comm or sending more than a few words in a letter. Still he kept up with the news of the Navy, paying particular attention to the movements of Death Squadron, Lord Vader's single-minded obsession in capturing the infamous pilot who had, they knew it without saying it, turned the tide of the war.

The letter came as a surprise on a busy morning, five minutes before he needed to head towards a meeting. It was like a vibroblade slaying him in the guts and taking his breath away. He had to sit down to read it again, his hands trembling from caffeine and shock. The letter said nothing outright, yet the words were blunt and hurried, infused with the bare, brutal truth that only belonged to condemned men.

He came in late to the meeting that day.

Later the news confirmed it, if only tacitly: a change in the chain of command, a string of promotions, a new captaincy for _Avenger._ Tiaan could think of nothing but their week on Imperial Centre. But life went on, relentless, and there was work to be done; so he set the memories aside, like one would lock their precious belongings away for fear of them being stolen.

One year later, he was certain his turn would come when Lord Vader himself visited the Death Star to complain of the construction's progress. He was at the end of his rope, exhausted and overwrought. As much as he hated to admit it, the thought of following his lover in the grave was not such an unwelcome one.

But he survived, alone, as if the stars that had taken Lorth away so quickly had decided he should be made to persist. He didn't know which of these two things was the most unfair. It didn't come as a surprise; he had lost faith in the universe a long time ago.

It was only when at last a breath of calm settled, and he was staring at the forest moon of Endor a few hours before an important battle, that he found his mind wandering again. The night felt heavy with destiny, the world about to turn on its head all over again, inescapable.

He thought of Empire Day again, of this fleeting happiness, of these stolen moments that in the throes of war felt all the more unreal. He remembered their blissful days with a clarity he had long thought lost, basking in that forgotten peace, their naïve hopes of old.

And he found himself praying again, bashfully, shamefully, that the dawn of a new age and the brink of a changing world would let them be reunited at last.


End file.
